Counting Stars
by Olympus Has Fallen
Summary: Tommy faints during the 'trespassing' tour, and Adam is the one to catch him.


Counting stars

Summary: Tommy faints during the 'trespassing' tour, and Adam is the one to catch him.

Warning(s): There are really no warnings that should be considered, to be honest. However, if this offends anyone in anyway, I'd advise you to click off of this story. Implied fainting, and possible inaccurate sources- I've never fainted, so I did a bit of research.

Pairing: Tommy Joe Ratliff & Adam Lambert

* * *

"You okay, Kiddo?"

Tommy looks up; Monte's staring down with concern hooding his eyes, and a question contouring his features. Not willing to voice his honesty, Tommy nods dizzily and smiles uncharacteristically- possibly too enthusiastically for his exterior, as Monte's eyebrows only furrow deeper in concern; his vision temporarily whitens, and then focuses. Hesitantly, Monte leaves with no further protest.

Truth be told, he feels like absolute shit; nauseas to his stomach, hearing distanced- with a slight ringing- and he feels weightless- which he's sure, without a shadow of doubt, that feeling weightless isn't a normal daily occurrence- or at least it shouldn't be. He's just about to tell Adam that he's not well, and that he's affirmative that he can't go ahead and play bass. However, he's already being impelled onto the stage; he's sure that right there, right then, he's going to throw up.

He doesn't; but the white flashes progressively worsen, and the audience's shouts subside into a momentary silence, before gradually growing intolerably high and loud. He feels lightheaded, and he can see stars- as overrated and cliche that sounds; the sides are stretching, expanding and then resuming to their original state.

Sweat moistens his skin, and he trips over his feet only slightly- not noticeable to the public's eye. However, Monte still hoods his face with concern; Tommy hates it.

The bass feels heavy in his hands, and he's slipping; there's a presence aside him, and warmth. "Glitter baby, are you okay?" Tommy turns, and the smell of cologne- assumably, the cologne is Adam's- intoxicates his senses. As, admittedly, nice as the cologne smells, it has no avail.

"Tommy?" Fingers snap in front of his face. And then everything slips; darkness confines him, and he feels a sharp, fleeting pain shimmie through his cheek.

"Tommy!"

Salt- that's all he can smell. It has the equivalent smell of urine, and Tommy hates it; his first instinct is to rid of the smell, dismiss it with his hand and knock whatever the hell they're waving under his nose, but he can't summon the energy. Instead, he coughs; "He's awake! Come back to us, Tommy. You're okay, take it easy."

"Where am I?" Tommy's disorientated, to say the least. "Sh, sweetie. You're backstage," It's Adam's voice, Adam's arms he's in, and Adam's scent- the cologne; lightly applied, faint, but still there. He closes his eyes, and let's himself lethargically lay in Adam's hold.

"I'm tired." There's a humourless edge to Adam's voice as he speaks, which softly flattens into a gentleness as he gradually finishes the sentence. "Why didn't you tell us? _Tell me_?" Underneath the gentleness, Tommy can hear disappointment and hurt.

"I thought it was nothing," Airily, Tommy speaks; his throat feels as if he's swallowed sandpaper. The thought makes him hoarsely laugh- because it's humanly impossible, at least he thinks so, to swallow sandpaper.

"I don't see what's funny about this," Harshly, Adam speaks. "You fainted, and you were out for- Sutan, how long was he out for?"

"Ten seconds, maybe more," Sutan's voice is also edged with a protective harshness, and fear. "Christ Tommy! Tell someone next time!"

"I get it," Weakly, Tommy protests. Adam silences him. "I'm sorry, but I thought it wasn't anything serious."

Without further protest, which Tommy is appreciative for, Adam pulls him into his arms and lays him on the settee- then, at that moment in time, Tommy panics; "What about the tour? The fans? Adam, get out there,"

Softly, Adam smiles. "They saw you faint- it's probably going to go on youtube- and they understand what's happening, or what's just happened. We told them we had to do some maintenance, due to technical errors. I don't think they believed us,"

"Shit," Tommy only realises then how much his head hurts, and the world comes crashing down on him; "I'm- Christ- really,"

"Don't apologise." Adam quietens him, and Tommy obliges. "It wasn't your fault."

He's tired, Adam knows that much. "Go to sleep, Tommy."

"But-" Sternly, Adam silences him. "No, go to sleep."

Tommy doesn't protest, he can't. "Okay. But who will-"

"That's for me to know, not you. Go to sleep." Adam punctuates every word with a stern, firm pause. Tommy only nods his head.

As he closes his eyes, he feels a knuckle trace the bruise on his cheek; slightly, he winces before falling into the darkness and counting stars.

Adam smiles softly, relieved that Tommy's fine.

* * *

Tommy browses through youtube, and there is is; capital letters, bold and punctuated with exclamation marks.

**TOMMY_ JOE RATLIFF_ FAINTS!**

* * *

**As you can tell, I'm no professional. Sorry. I hope you enjoyed though, and I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. **


End file.
